FORTY-EIGHT: NEW DUTIES

  “Wake, legionnaire,” a voice whispered in Cassius' ear, stirring him from his slumber as he slowly peeled his eyes open. Starlight lit the small waist high tent, hardly enough to soften the darkness, but [Hunter’s Sight] was second nature and took no time to call forth.

  Attia’s face was inches from his own, her breath should have washed across his face as she stared down at him. Across from them Pius snored softly, the man unaware of the exchange happening only feet from him. It took Cassius a significant part of his willpower not to cry out, shock and surprise stifled by will as he slowly nodded in acknowledgement.

  General Invicatam’s aide departed in a blink, leaving without a sound as Cassius unfolded himself off of his cot and slipped out into the pre-dawn morning. The aide stood there, arms at her side completely still as she stared at Cassius with a blank look. He looked down at himself and blinked what was left of the sleep out of his eyes as he stared down at his bare chest.

  The night had been a blurry haze of beer rations being shoved into his hand as legionnaire after legionnaire had congratulated him. No one had bothered to retrieve his tunic or armor and the howls of protest as he tried to retrieve them had kept Cassius firmly rooted at the tables as food and more beer had been slammed in front of him.

  “Swords, legionnaire. The General waits for you,” Attia finally said, face unmoving as she stared him down. Cassius cursed softly and ducked back into the tent to grab his sword belts as quietly as he could and turned to see the woman leaving, walking away.

  “Wait,” Cassius hissed at her, grabbing his boots with his other hand and racing after her. Sentries looked at them with a hint of curiosity before going back to ignoring them as she led him toward the far corner of the camp away from where the strata had set themselves up. Attia did not wait.

  He caught up to her as they left the sleeping area. Attia didn’t speak as she escorted him toward the back of the camp, only as they passed behind a tent did Cassius wonder to himself if he was being led to a dark corner to be killed. The suspicion had hardly taken root before the form of the general could be made out, standing at parade rest as he looked over the ramparts toward the Shifting Wall.

  “One legionnaire. Partially dressed.” Attia dipped her head after her address, turning and disappearing with the same disturbing efficiency of motion that sent ripples of unease up Cassius’ spine.

  “Forgive, Attia. She serves her purpose well, but can forget her manners at times,” General Invictam said, turning to look at Cassius. A hint of a smile crossed his face as he saw Cassius’ state but he didn’t remark upon it as he shed his heavy fur cloak, revealing his own tunic and sword.

  “It was not the beat down I wished for, but Captain Antonia Rufus spent an inordinate amount of time complaining to me about it. Small victories. The men enjoyed it, morale will be high after breakfast,” General Invictam said as he slowly drew his sword out. The general waited a long moment before pointing the tip of his blade at Cassius’ still sheathed blades

  “Sir?” Cassius asked as he set down his gladius and boots, drawing his dungeon sword as it was better suited for duels like this.

  “When you have the opportunity to complete multiple objectives with one action, do so. We will move out tomorrow morning and the men will be distraught about it, going further from our gate and forced to march through the Wilds. Having them leave while in higher spirits is good. I do not believe I need to tell you what it is that I hoped to achieve by you winning in the ring?”

  “Defending the honor of the legion instills pride in the men and also raises morale.” Cassius said as the general slowly moved forward. His first testing lunge was slow, tepid, easy for Cassius to knock away. They circled warily, Cassius having kicked his gear clear of the small area that the general had created for them.

  “Yes. And?” Invictam probed again, faster, sharper now but still Cassius defended with ease, turning the parry into a riposte that forced Invictam back two steps as he blocked. The hammer of steel on steel was loud in the morning light, but nobody came forward to investigate.

  “Sir?” Cassius asked, struggling to keep up as the general sent a flurry of quick blows. His bladework was different from Vira who relied on overwhelming speed and strength that combined with her technical mastery. She was always in the right place at the right time and stronger than he was. Invictam was loose, quick, his sword darted in a thrust heavy attack that didn’t rely on the heavy overhand swings the noblewoman used.

  “If you can not think while your body is moving, then our arrangement will be severely stunted,” Invictam said as he increased his pace with ease. Cassius was starting to struggle as he blocked and retreated, constantly twisting around the edge of the circle of cleared space to not be pinned down under the barrage of attacks.

  Cassius thought as he blocked and moved, trying to think of what had happened yesterday. Without [Unyielding Spirit’s] help he would have been overwhelmed, but he could think clearly even as he struggled. All he could think of was the morale boost of the victory, of how happy the legionnaires were as they congratulated him.

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  “You introduced me to the legion,” Cassius said as sweat started to trickle down his face as Invictam picked up pace, his sword a blur as Cassius threw himself to the ground, rolling and coming to his feet only to discover the general was already there, a wide overhead strike breaking the flow of the battle.

  Cassius blocked it instead of deflecting it and cursed as his arm buckled under the force of the blow. The general kept their blades locked as he stepped closer, slamming a shoulder into Cassius’ chest and throwing him back to the ground.

  “Good. I introduced you to the legion. Every man and woman in the Thirteenth will know your name by the end of the day. Between that and the superbia you retrieved, you are quickly becoming one of the most well-known figures in the legion. Now, why?” Invictam said, his brief break was enough for Cassis to get to his feet and resettle himself. Invictam was back upon him a moment later, hedging Cassius in with a mix of strikes that Cassius struggled to deal with.

  Vira might be skilled with a sword. Technically proficient, strong, and fast, but it was becoming clear the Invictam was that and more. He was experienced, mixing styles of fighting as easily as a man breathed as he pushed Cassius to the limit.

  “You wish for me to be visible. For them to know me.” Cassius panted between sentences as he fought faster and harder to keep up.

  “Boring. Lazy. Think!” Invictam demanded as he did something with his sword, twirling the point and then Cassius’ sword was flying across their combat area. Invictam didn’t stop his attack. Cassius threw himself to the ground, rolling in a tight somersault as steel parted the air he’d previously occupied. He rose to his feet next to his sword, scooped it up and turned just in time to meet Invictam’s charge.

  “You want the men to like me, know me. I hold the superbia, I upheld their honor, I…a champion!” Cassius spoke out loud as they continued their growing lopsided duel. Invictam nodded and disarmed him again, but stopped, stepping back. Cassius thought it was unfair that he was drenched in sweat, the stale scent of beer wafting off of his body, while Invictam looked fresh.

  “Yes. It is not often a role used in the legions, but it can be a good tradition. A single legionnaire that stands outside of the chain-of-command. You will do as you did yesterday, challenge and beat anyone who insults the honor of the legion. Normally this is a role given to one of the older legionnaires who still is in their prime, but as you are a tier two and not an officer,” Invictam said with a slight shrug, turning and walking toward Cassius’ sword. He plucked it up and tossed it back to Cassius with an easy flick of his wrist.

  “It is not an official title, but one that the men will respect. A champion will fight with the men of course, but always will they carry the legions’ honor. That superbia you found is special, I saw that right away. It’s a good role for you. For now,” Invictam explained.

  “What else will I need to do?” Cassius asked as he lifted his sword into a proper guard position.

  “Morale. You will walk the men, encourage them, lift their spirits, you will be their sword and shield. Now, what are the benefits and downsides to this?” Invictam started the next round of sparring slower, striking smoothly with a long thrust. Over and over he repeated the same thrust, shaking his head slightly when Cassius blocked wrong. Slowly Invictam hammered into him better technique as the sun began to rise.

  “Higher morale as you said. A champion could be almost considered the heart of the legion or its anima in flesh. Someone they can rally behind beyond what their officers offer. Solve conflicts like we did yesterday, inside of a ring or even an arena rather than a battlefield. They can be an outlet to frustrations or even a way for the men to directly speak free of their officers.”

  “Excellent. Now downsides,” Invictam said. He paused after Cassius blocked and waited a split second before moving again slowly to reset. It only took two times before Cassius understood what the man was waiting for. Cassius countered after his block, only for Invictam to block and shake his head, twisting his wrist so Cassius’ blade was at a different angle. Then Invictam reset.

  “If I fall it could be crushing. Without a strong officer corp the men will falter. If the champion doesn’t fulfill their role the men could begin to resent them, especially if they are offered privileges.”

  “Good. There are recorded instances where the fall of a champion destroys the fighting spirit of a legion, forcing them from the field. At the same time there are just as many accounts of a champion racing across the field and rallying shattered cohorts. It is a double edged blade without a handle. I have found when in use it is best to work on the officer corp in conjunction with the champion. A strong backbone of experienced centurions and tribunes can weather the death of a champion easily, while a champion can often relieve stress or malignance that builds among the men at their officers.”

  Invictam stopped, stepping back as he waited for Cassius to recognize the bout was over. The general wasn’t breathing hard, his clothes were unstained and he looked almost bored as he ran a thumb along the edge of his sword.

  “Go to the quartermaster and get fresh, fitted gear. I will be busy disentangling ourselves from the strata and trying to convince our dear senators they must march forth with us. If you could find your friend and lean upon her for some mounted cavalry to accompany us, I would be appreciative,” Invictam said as he grabbed his furs from the ground and threw them around his shoulder as he walked away.

  Cassius slowly dropped to a knee and started to run [Regenerate] as he took into account the dozens of small wounds that the general had caused and the damage to his feet from fighting barefoot.

  “Tomorrow be dressed properly and not smelling of beer. Wash yourself!” Invictam’s last words faded away as Cassius groaned as he flopped to the ground and laid on his back staring up at the sky.